


Harry Potter and The Infuriating Destiny

by junefall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (It's Genetic), Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Cedric Diggory, Cedric is A Good Boyfriend, Dead Inside Harry, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Famous Harry, Gay Harry Potter, Gen, Good Albus Dumbledore, Good Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Harry Has Multiple Existential Crises, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Parselmouth Lily Evans Potter, Powerful Harry, Ron Weasley is A Side Character, Self-Harm, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Smart Harry, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Underage Substance Use, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Wizengamot, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junefall/pseuds/junefall
Summary: Harry Potter was raised in a perfectly normal family, thank you very much. His parents had died in a car crash, and he was taken in with his aunt and uncle shortly after. He was a bookish child who spent his time happily at school with his cousin Dudley and was perfectly content to stay out of trouble and do what was expected of him.This was of course, all interrupted on the day of his eleventh birthday.(Not Beta'd)Harry Potter is thrust into a magical world, that quite frankly, is a lot more trouble than it's worth. A blooming prodigy thrust into a steadily developing war with a slowly declining mental health, what will become of Harry Potter? And why the fuck does he keep staring at boys?(Very loosely inspired by Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Eliezer Yudkowsky)
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Other(s), Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 35
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter One: A Perfectly Normal Family, Thank You Very Much

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, this is my first fanfic. So uh... enjoy?

**July 31st, 1991**

"Boy! Wake up!" Vernon Dursley roared from the floor below.

Harry rolled his eyes and stumbled out of bed.

"Coming Uncle Vernon!"

Harry Dursley was a normal sort of boy, or at least normal seeming. He wasn't too short, wasn't too tall. He had green eyes and black, stylishly messy hair. He wasn't much for sports, despite his Uncle's insistence on Harry doing "bloody something of use." Harry much preferred books over rugby, Harry, however, knew the importance of physical activity, and so often went on jogs in the morning or evening.

Harry picked the book he was currently reading, Pride and Prejudice, off the nightstand and went down the stairs, where the smell of bacon and the sound of lively chatter waited for him.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" Aunt Petunia called from the stove, as Harry took his place at the table heaped high with presents.

"Thank you Aunt Petunia," he said in his trim, polite way, before turning his attention back to the book.

"Reading are ya, Harry?" Uncle Vernon chortled as he sat down next to Harry, having gotten up earlier to fetch the paper.

"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry replied. "You really ought to read Jane Austen Uncle, she is quite the gifted writer. I think you might rather like this Mr. Darcy character. He is rough and grounded, rather like you I'd think."

Uncle Vernon raised an eyebrow and then grunted, turning his attention back to the paper.

Petunia hummed happily as she carefully transferred the freshly cooked bacon onto a plate.

"Dudley dear! Turn off the telly, it's time for breakfast!"

There was grunt from the sitting room as Dudley reluctantly obeyed his mother.

"And, er Dudley, son! go fetch the post while you're there."

"Right dad! I'm going, I'm going."

Dudley, Harry's cousin, while not the brightest young man, was a rather caring one. He was a well built athlete, who, unlike Harry, did play rugby, and attracted the attention of many a young girl with his well rounded physique. He liked to help Harry garden, when Aunt Petunia asked, and he also tried to follow along when Harry would describe the complexity and cultural influences in Russian literature. It did amuse Harry sometimes, to imagine Dudley as a great big fat bully. What world would that be?

Dudley came into the kitchen a moment later with a handful of post. There was some business notice from Grunnings, Uncle Vernon's drill firm, a letter from Aunt Marge, probably to wish Harry a happy birthday, a few letters from Aunt Petunia's old friends, and several for Harry, who was subscribed to several magazines involving politics, science, philosophy, and literature. He placed them on top of Harry's many gifts.

"Happy Birthday Harry. Er, my present is over there, by the way," he said, pointing at a rather lumpy parcel on the corner.

Harry nodded, offering a warm smile to his cousin.

"Thanks Big D, can't wait to open it."

Dudley offered a toothy grin, looking rather proud of himself as he sat down.

Aunt Petunia came over with the plate of bacon and took her apron off, placing it over her chair.

"Now then! Anyone feeling like eating!"

After opening what amounted to twenty presents, the most notable ones being a junior chemistry set, a Dissertation on Theoretical Physics by a fairly new but well thought of scholar, and Dudley's gift, a jersey from his favorite rugby team.

The Dursleys all had a healthy helping of cake, and Harry, after taking a moment to sort through his gifts, brought them upstairs along with his post. Harry placed the book on physics into a section of his bookshelf he called the "To Read" section, and placed his chemistry set on the desk along with his mail. He took to pieces of thumbtack and put Dudley's gift on the wall before going back to his bed and happily reading Jane Austen, blissfully ignorant of the very important letter that awaited his attention.

A week had passed since Harry's eleventh birthday, and Harry was rather enjoying his new book on Physics. He wasn't a believer in string theory, but he did find it very interesting to imagine that everything he saw amounted to nothing but shaky strings. Harry, at present, was watching a television program with Dudley, some sort of cartoon where a mysterious ghost kept trying to scare a boy who wanted to be friends with it. Harry found it very funny, which was rare with the things Dudley liked, the two, though very close, were very different. He thought back to his book, and ghosts, and wondered for a moment, what would it mean if everything around simply amounted to layers of fizzing nothingness. And for a second, everything became a tad bit more colorful- too colorful. Harry blinked strange dots from his eyes, and when he came to, Dudley was banging his fists against the television, which seemed to show nothing but static.

"Mum! The telly's gone weird!"

Petunia came running from the kitchen, where she had been practicing her patchwork, and frowned at the television.

"Hm. How odd."

She fiddled with a few knobs, even tried plugging it in and out again, but no, the screen stayed blank.

"Here, let me try Aunt Petunia," Harry said, standing up. He touched the knob, and, with another burst of color, the boy and the ghost reappeared on the television.

"Wow Harry, how'd you do that!?" Dudley said gaping at the television as Harry stared at his own hands. Harry shrugged, going back to sit on the couch, not quite concerned with the strange colors, the odd sting in his finger when he touched the television.

He went back to watching the cartoon, and laughed when the ghost gave a "boo" and the boy returned it with a tight, comically uncomfortable hug.

That night Petunia Dursley walked out onto Privet Drive, looking around to see if any owls came swooping down with a letter. There was none. She looked up at the window where her nephew slept, most likely reading. There was magic in him, magic she had been hoping that he hadn't inherited from Lily, and that Potter boy. Everything would have been so much easier for him- so much easier. But, clearly Dumbledore's letter all those years ago had not been a lie. The question was, where the *other* letter was.

Harry perused the magazines he had gotten the day before. The British Scientist's Journal, Literature and You, Young Politics. And a rather odd envelope with a red wax seal on it. Hm.


	2. Chapter Two: Walking Diagonally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry learns about his heritage, goes shopping, and meets a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the great response! Just saying, it'll be a while until the romance appears and the angst gets REALLy angsty The first several chapters will be about Harry settling into the Wizarding World and his deep reservations about it.
> 
> Edited on Dec 22nd, establish Harry's Mage Sight.

**Night, July 31st, 1991**

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.  
Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

Harry was quite certain it was a joke. A rather elaborate one, but a joke nonetheless. "Supreme Mugwump," ha! Warlock, he knew, Wizards, Witchcraft, Wizardry, that was all well and good, but Mugwump? Harry laughed a bit to himself, reading down the list of imaginary textbooks, each author's name sounding more ridiculous than the rest. The question was, who could have written this? Certainly not Dudley, he wasn't smart enough for it, and the quality of the envelope and the seal would mean someone spent an awful lot of time just for a single joke. Hm. Even if this were a real school, and not something made up by a prankster with a lot of time on their hands, where on Earth would Harry get a wand? Harry spent a few more minutes looking over the letter, before sighing, and putting the letter into a crisp manila folder. He wrote on the side, "Mugwump," and placed the folder on the part of his bookshelf labelled "to research" and then moved his attention to a particularly interesting article about the effects of gravity on time.

**Early Morning, August 1st, 1991**

Harry was dreaming. He dreamt of a great castle, filled with lions, eagles, badgers, and snakes. He dreamt of a strange road lined up with haphazardly built buildings, colorful, strange things offered in their windows and oddly dressed people going to and fro the shops. A single thought had come to him.

_"This will all be mine one day."_

A flash of green light, a woman screaming, and it was as if Harry was falling, only in reverse. He fell through a cold forest, into the walls of the great castle, past a strange smelling purple fabric, and then he was back in his bed, in Privet Drive. Harry got up groggily. His head hurt, a lot, actually. It felt as if an ice pick had been driven into his skull, and someone had brought down the hammer.

Harry brought his hand up to meet his scar. It was wet. Harry put on his slippers, going down the hallway and into the bathroom. It was bleeding. Harry furrowed his brow, staring closely at it, as if it were going to give him some mysterious message, or the Theory of Everything, before giving up and turned the sink on. After a few splashes of water, Harry felt much better, and the throbbing in his head, though still there, mercifully eased. He applied some disinfectant with a q-tip and covered the scar with a band aid and then went downstairs.

"Dudley?" Petunia said. "Is that you?"

"No Aunt Petunia, it's me." Harry replied, going into the kitchen.

"Harry? What are you doing the sun hasn't even risen yet."

Harry shrugged.

"I'm thirsty," he replied, opening the refrigerator. "Do we have any orange juice?"

"Yes Harry dear, on the bottom shelf attached to the door. But may I ask, why did you put a bandaid on your scar?"

Harry shrugged. "It was bleeding."

Petunia became oddly pale. 

"Bleeding? It's a scar, scars aren't supposed to bleed." 

"I know. I'm thinking I'll read up on blood disorders at the library."

Petunia sighed and watched as Harry drank from his glass.

"Harry, you're perfectly healthy, I don't think that'll be necessary. I will say though. This is very odd."

She stopped for a moment, before looking around, as though checking to see if there were anyone listening.

"Harry, have you seen any owls lately, around the house? Perhaps gotten any strange letters?"

Now it was Harry's turn to become pale.

"What kind of strange letters."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to do. Aunt Petunia was crying. Crying very hard in fact. Sobbing. Harry had thought the letter was rather odd, but he didn't think it warranted this kind of reaction.

"Oh Harry! Lily- I, that stupid boy- should have never, told mummy, What am I suppo- And they'll want him of course- that slimy, greasy-"

"Aunt Petunia." 

Harry grabbed each of her arms firmly. Petunia shakily raised her head, handkerchief damp with snot and tears.

"Oh Harry, I'm so very sorry."

"Sorry for what Aunt Petunia? Do you know what this letter is?"

Petunia sighed and nodded.

"It's about time I told you how your mother died." 

Harry had gone downstairs to fetch Aunt Petunia a glass of water. She had been crying for quite a while, and Harry was worried she'd be dehydrated. Harry wasn't really sure how to feel about the fact that he was a wizard. He supposed it made sense. One time on the swings, he had swung so far he flipped all the way around, but managed to land on top, on the bar. Another time, when Uncle Vernon had been playing some sort of loud jazz that Harry didn't like, a voice very similar like his came onto the radio (" _FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHO IS PLAYING THIS BLOODY TRUMPET!?_ )". The look on Uncle Vernon's face would have made a very funny photo. And of course, that had been that television incident the other day. He supposed the hardest thing to adjust to was the fact that his parents _hadn't_ died of a tragic car accident. They had been murdered. By a magical terrorist, for that matter.

How had they died?

Did it hurt?

Was death by spell worth than death by gun?

Harry's grip tightened on the cup as he went back upstairs.

"I won't go if you don't want me to Aunt Petunia," Harry said. "I never thought much of all that fantasy posh anyway."

Petunia sniffed and waved her hand, taking deep drinks of the water.

"Thank you Harry, but no. I know how much you loved those Narnia books."

She sighed, a deep sad sigh.

"I was jealous of Lily, you know. Your mum. She was prettier than me, more popular than me. Then, she became a witch and it was all Lily's magic! Lily can make potions and turn rats into saucers and what-not."

She shook her head.

"The last thing I told her was that I hated her, and then she-"

She shuddered and took another drink of water. 

"And then you were here."

Petunia dried her eyes and put her handkerchief away.

"I don't suppose you'd mind if we waited until later to tell Dudley and Vernon?"

Harry shook his head.

"No. Not at all."

They sat quietly for a while after that. 

Then Harry: "I promise not to turn any rats into saucers."

Petunia laughed.

The sun began to rise.

**Later**

Dudley had asked if Harry could curse their maths teacher. Vernon had turned purple and excused himself to go to the bathroom. There was the distinct sound of strangled screaming from upstairs.

Harry had just been telling Dudley that he had only learned he was wizard the other day when Aunt Petunia came back down with Uncle Vernon. He was still rather red and breathing rather heavily. Aunt Petunia patted his arm. He let out a deep groan, and his body shook with it.

"Well. I guess I know why Petunia didn't want to talk about her sister." 

He huffed, and rubbed the corners of his eyes. 

"We'll go after breakfast. Petunia says the magic shopping square's on Charing Cross, so I reckon you'll be fine, been there 'fore after all."

Harry was quiet. He was rather worried for his uncle's arteries.

"But you're still going to church, goddamnit!"

**Morning, August 1st, 1991**

Aunt Petunia told Harry a few more things while in the car.

"Lily said that witches had their own money, their own bank. But she mentioned that there was a conversion system."

She reached into her purse, pulling out roughly 200 pounds. 

"I think this should be enough. If not find the nearest phone, and call me. I'll come and help you figure it out."

Harry frowned.

"You aren't coming with me?"

Aunt Petunia pursed her mouth.

"I'm afraid not Harry. I'm sorry. I'd like to stay away from magic for as long as I can." She smiled a bit. "Though if you're anything like Lily, I suppose I'll be seeing it again soon enough."

"Be careful!" Petunia called, as she drove off. Harry waved, then began to walk around. None of the buildings looked particularly out of place. There was a Warburtons, a pub, a fish and chips place, a cafe. There was a steady stream of people going in and out of each building. Harry walked to and fro for a while, looking to see if there were any pointy-hatted people going into a building. He noticed, eventually, not people going into a building, rather a lack of it. The people seemed to be avoiding the pub entirely, except for a rare few, but they were oddly dressed, like they didn't quite know what clothing was. Harry walked closer to the pub staring up at the sign, which to his surprise, had a moving picture on it. 

_The Leaky Cauldron_.

_Rather shabby,_ Harry thought. Harry was about to open the door, before he decided to conduct a little experiment. He tried to imagine his eyes, sinking into the back of his head. He tried to imagine the clusters of electron clouds that made everything up around him. He thought about the thousands of alternate universes being created every microsecond. He tried for a moment, to imagine what it meant to _dissolve._ The pub seemed to secrete waves of mundanity, grey and brown. When Harry looked around, it seemed as if all the people around him were the exact same color, except for the spare few who entered the pub, they're colors were sharp and shocking. Harry looked down at himself. His own color fizzed around inside of him. Gold. With the odd spark of ugly scarlet. The scarlet made Harry's scar itch. He let go of his concentration. Thanking a woman who opened the door for him, he entered.

The pub was rather dim, dirty too. The people who had entered it before him, pulled out strange sticks (wands, Harry realized), waving them, making their clothing seemingly vanish, having been replaced by long robes. 

Harry straightened his back, clearing his throat. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Excuse me?" he said, walking up to the bar.

The bartender, a rather short, bald man, came up to him.

"Aren't ya a bit young ta be drinkin' lad?"

Harry flushed as the seated customers laughed.

"No, er, I'm looking for the place where you get your school things. For Hogwarts."

The bartender's expression softened. 

"Ah. Muggleborn are ya?"

Harry thought for a moment. 

"I don't think so. Both my parents were magic. I was raised muggle though," he said, the word feeling strange on his tongue.

The bartender raised his eyebrow, but he said nothing more. 

"Ben! Watch the bar for me will ya? I'm helping this chap, ay?"

A man who Harry assumed was Ben nodded as the bartender came out from behind the bar. 

"Right. Name's Tom, and the place you're looking for is called Diagon Alley. Follow me, if you will." 

Tom led Harry to the very back of the pub, where there was nothing but brick wall and two or three empty rubbish bins. 

"Right, right, where is it..."

Tom pulled out a stick, no, wand, and after some examination, tapped a brick three times with it. The brick shook, folding in onto itself, as the other bricks around it shook and did the same until a great hole in the wall appeared. Harry found himself gaping. It was the street he had seen in his dream, or rather, Alley. He tried to _dissolve again_. The magic seemed to rush at him. Colors that didn't even exist seemed to skip along the roofs of the place, before blinking, and reappearing elsewhere.

Tom yawned and put his wand away. 

"Now uh, I need to get back to the bar. But you've got your list right? Know all the knick knacks and things you'll be needing?"

Harry nodded, still looking curiously at the sheer display of magic. "Thank you-" he tried to say, but Tom had already vanished, disappearing into thin air with a loud crack. 

Harry blinked, but then thought it best to move through the hole. He patted his pocket to make sure the money was still there, before stepping forward into his new life.

Harry left Gringotts Wizarding Bank with a leather pouch full of golden coins, a key, ("Don't lose it!" Snarltooth the Goblin had firmly warned) and a certificate proving that Harry was a Gringotts client. Goblins, minecarts, cavernous caves full of gold. Who knew wizarding finance was such fun?

Harry, after asking around, managed to get himself a cauldron (bronze, not pewter, he was familiar with such things), a set of glass or crystal phials telescope, a set of brass scales. He had thought that buying magical tools would be more fun, but no- it was rather like when he had helped Uncle Vernon buy office tools once. 

Harry walked into Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. The place was much larger than it had looked on the outside, shelves filled with rolls of fabric, and several mirrors, that seemed to be talking to their customers.

"Hello," said a short, pleasant looking witch who, as her name tag confirmed, was Madam Malkins. "Hogwarts dear?"

Harry nodded.

"Ah yes, we've got the lot of them in here." She said, pointing to a blonde boy being measured by another witch. "Come, come now. Time for your measurements."

She had him stand next to the blonde boy and pulled out her wand. The measuring tape moved a bit like a snake through the air, measuring what Harry thought were some rather unnecessary things, like his ear, and his hair. 

"Hello," said the boy. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes, rather exciting isn't it?" Harry said, determined to at least try and act like he knew what he was doing.

"Well, I suppose so," The boy said. "I knew I'd be going since forever, but still. Wonderful to finally be getting my own wand instead of trying to steal my father's."

"Yes," Harry said. "I think my aunt would be a lot happier once I know how to control my magic. She's sick of me turning rats into saucers."

The boy laughed.

"One time when I was a baby, I turned my rattle into a snake. Mother was quite worried, but it turned out I had made friends with it." He giggled a bit. "Not surprising, when you're bound for Slytherin."

"Yes," Harry said, wondering what on earth a Slytherin was. "I suppose."

"I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. You are?"

"Harry. Harry Dursley." 

The boy, Draco, wrinkled his nose. "Dursley? Don't tell me you're a muggleborn."

A part of Harry screamed. What was it with these people and _muggleborns?_

"No, my parents were both wizards. I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle though. They're muggle."

Draco raised a brow.

"Oh? Half-blood then. Can't be helped I suppose. Why were you raised by your relatives?"

"My parents died when I was a baby."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I don't remember it anyway."

There was a permeable silence. 

"I hope you're in Slytherin, Harry. You're a good one, I can tell."

Harry smiled. "Really?"

Draco smirked. "Yeah, I just figure we don't tell father you've been raised by muggles when he finds out we're friends."

Harry smiled wider. _Friends._

"Yeah I suppose."

Madam Malkins stood up. "That's you done dear, I'll just ring you up."

Draco smiled, albeit coldly.

"Well then, see you at Hogwarts?"

Harry smiled. "See you at Hogwarts."


	3. Chapter Three: The Owl, The Snake, And The Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry meets a bunch of strange creatures that he wasn't quite sure he would ever have the pleasure to meet.
> 
> (Inspiration taken from To Shape and Change by blueowl on Fanfiction.net, and HPMOR, especially for this chapter!)

**August 1st, 1991**

When Harry walked into Flourish and Blotts, he found himself immediately walking back to the Wizard Supply Store. "How can I store lots of things?" Harry bought a mokeskin pouch, a bag that can apparently defy basic physics (he would have to look into that) and a trunk that had six several large compartments and a small room inside it, with several enchantments to ensure it's lightness. Harry found himself purchasing not only the required school books but the entire Standard Book of Spells series, Hogwarts a History, Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, the Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, Guide to Advanced Occlumency (Wizards can read minds so that's just wonderful), Potion Mastery and Brewing Theory, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dueling and Defense: Protect You and Your Loved Ones, A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, A Thousand Herbs and Fungi, Advanced Potion Making, Ancient Runes Made Easy and Magical Plants and Their Applications. If magic was real, then he was determined to learn as much about it as humanly possible.

Then Harry went in to get his wand. The shop, Ollivander's was awfully small. Dusty, cramped. Not what Harry would expect of a store that sold fine magical instruments. "Hello?" There was some noise in the back, and an old man stepped out from the shadows.

"Ah hello. I've been expecting you, Mr. Potter." Harry blinked.

"Well, it's Dursley, actually, but Potter is also accurate. How do you know my name?"

"Well, Mr. Potter. To put it lightly, you are not one to go unnoticed." Then he gave Harry a strange look, and Harry suddenly felt as if he were under an invisible spotlight. "And yet, it seems you have." He walked behind Harry, pulling his own wand out and a measuring tape.

"What is your wand arm?"

"Er- I use both."

Ollivander's eyes gleamed at that. "Curious." The gleam in his eye went away, and Ollivander began to pick boxes idly from their shelves. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." He snapped his finger and the measuring tape stopped measuring, neatly returning itself to some shelf elsewhere. "Now, then. Here. Walnut, dragon heartstring. 8 1/2 inches. Brittle." Harry took the wand, and nothing happened. "Nope." Ollivander took the wand away. Ollivander opened another box. "Hawthorne, unicorn hair, 11 inches, firm." Harry hardly touched the wand before Ollivander took the wand away, tutting. "Nope, nope, nope." He searched through his pile of boxes, wagging his finger. "Hm, yes, oh- why not." He turned around presenting Harry with "holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Blue and silver sparks burst out of the wand, and Harry felt a surge of warmth and power flow through him. The strange colors, and lines that made up the world returned to Harry, only this time, it felt like he was in control of them. Ollivander smiled, the gleam back in his eyes. "How curious, how curious."

Harry stared at his new wand with fascination. "Curious how Mr. Ollivander?" Ollivander's eyes were really quite shiny.

Harry could not have left Ollivander's sooner. "Great, but terrible things-" the man was ridiculous. Was that really what people thought of Voldemort? Harry had a name to put to his scar, apparently. Twin cores. Ollivander really tactfully compacted the story of his parents murder quite well. Harry was lucky no one had noticed his scar. "The Boy-Who-Lived" who came up with that kind of thing? Harry was right about ready to leave the Alley now, and be done with it all. 

" _Hoot._ " Harry turned around with a start. The store in front of him read Eeylop's Owl Emporium. Oh right. The store said he was allowed a pet. Toad, cat, owl. Harry smiled. He always liked animals.

Harry wound up picking a beautiful snowy owl with silvery feathers. Apparently magical owls shone? He wasn't sure what to name her yet, he wanted to make sure it was a good name. He gave the shopkeeper five galleons and was just leaving the shop, when-

" _That'ssss a pretty owl."_

Harry turned around. There was a rather large white snake on the ground behind him.

Harry looked around. There wasn't anyone near him the only other people than an old wizard and a witch with her two younger children, and they were at the shop across the street looking at cats. 

Harry walked over to the snake. 

" _Was that you?_ "

The snake seemed surprised.

" _You sssspeak my tongue?"_

Harry shrugged.

" _I'm new to magic. I would guess I do._ "

The snake flicked it's tongue.

" _Interessssssting_."

Harry crouched down in front of the snake. 

" _I'm not really supposed to have a second pet. But would you like to come home with me?_ "

The snake seemed to think for a moment.

" _It hassss been a long time ssssince I've had a companion. I do not ssssee why not._ "

Harry offered his arm, and the snake slithered up his arm and onto his shoulders. Harry got the distinct feeling that it shrank as it did.

" _Bessssst if you don't tell any other humans you sssspeak to_ me," the snake said. " _The_ _sssssnaketongue is a bad omen among your kind."_

Harry had a cone of butterbeer ice cream as he waited for Aunt Petunia to pick him up at Charing Cross. The owl slept happily in her cage, while the snake rested around Harry's shoulder, to the general shock of the people around him.

" _Oh? Seems rather stupid, I would think it's rather useful. So I can speak to all snakes then. Not just you?"_

" _Yessssss."_

" _Alright._ _You can shrink, right?"_

" _Yessss?"_

" _Good. I'm not really supposed to have you, and I think Aunt Petunia would be rather frightened to have a giant snake in her house._ "

The snake gave what I think was it's version of a smile. 

" _Could I have ssssssome of thisssss iccccce cream?_ "

Harry lifted the cone to his shoulder.

"I don't see why not. Go ahead."

The snake unhinged it's jaw and took the entire cone into it's mouth. He shivered. 

" _Ack. Cold._ "

Harry glared at the snake.

" _I thought you would just lick it!_ "

The snake gave that strange semi-smile again.

" _Ssssnakes don't do licks._ "

Harry named the owl Hedwig after a very brave witch he read in one of his books. Hedwig hooted happily when Harry gave her her new name. When he asked the snake what it wanted to be called, it thought for a moment, before providing the name Themis.

" _Oh, are you a girl then?_ "

" _No, I am not cursed to birth. I simply have a flair for the dramatic._ "

"Hedwig and seemed to get on famously, as much as a snake and owl could anyway. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon seemed to think it best to leave Harry alone, once his trunk was up in his bedroom. Dudley however, was fascinated by Harry, and the new world he was a part of.

They sat together, Dudley petting Hedwig (Themis hidden beneath Harry's bed) as Harry entertained him by swirling sparks around the room. 

"So, Harry. You're not going to college then?"

Harry shrugged.

"I'd like to. Hogwarts a History says that the school helps with further education for people who want to work in the muggle world- er, that is the normal world."

"Huh. Dudley said. He carried Hedwig over to her cage, where she drank from a tin of water.

"I think it's cool. You know. No matter what mum and dad think." Dudley paused, before saying. "I think you're going to be the best magician ever Harry."

"Wizard, actually. But thanks."

And there was silence, other than the occasional hoot from Hedwig.

For some reason, Harry wasn't quite sure if he wanted to be a wizard.

**September 1st, 1991**

Harry had been practicing meditation ever since he got his book on Occlumency. Charms too, but it was mainly Occlumency and meditation. His dreams had been ever persistent, and ever since Harry had learned more about his scar, courtesy of Mr. Ollivander, the pains were more and more worrying. Harry had stopped the dreams entirely though, which was a welcome development, it confirmed Harry's fears- something was trying to reach him.

" _Powerful wizardssss have been known to possessss the ability to Legilimize. Pry into one'ssss mind. Perhapsssss ssssuch a wizard ssssearches for you._ "

Themis knew a surprising amount of magic. Harry had read about Parseltongue, it's legacy. Salazar Slytherin and his Chamber of Secrets. He better understood Themis's fear for Harry now. Harry wouldn't particularly enjoy being associated with wizard Hitler.

" _Magic userssss with ssssnaketongue have been none to be exxxxxtremely powerful. But your kind fears power. Know your ssssstrength, and hide it well Harry._ " 

Aunt Petunia drove Harry to the station that day, Uncle Vernon driving Dudley to Smeltings. Harry thought that it would have been nice for the school to specify the location of the Platform, and exactly how to get on it. Harry had only found out his way when he read through Hogwarts a History. He assumed that wizards like Draco would know the way, but for those so-called muggleborns, it must have been awfully confusing to have little to no instruction. 

Aunt Petunia sniffed as Harry began walking away.

"Don't worry Aunt Petunia. I'll bring you back a magic diamond, or something!"

Harry arrived rather early, marveling at the enchantments present at the platform: no one seemed to notice the children and parents vanishing into thin air. The platform was a curtain of a volatile purple, it's colors becoming slightly tinted whenever someone went through it. It was like a waterfall of glowing purple bubbles. There was the same aura that surrounded the Leaky Cauldron though: grey, brown mundane. Harry figured that's what kept the normal folk, or muggles, as the books said, away. He walked through the waterfall, letting the purple wash over him, and found himself in a crowd of robed men, women, and children.

They were a strange lot, wizards. Two little boys flew on brooms that only flew a foot off the ground, their sister trying to chase them. Another, an adult, seemed to be sternly warning their child against the dangers of Barbed Bellidendles. A golden ball with wings flew through the air, and if one looked through the smoke, they would see several owls perched up high in the ceiling. Harry checked a clock attached to the wall nearby. 10:30. Harry looked at Hedwig, and Themis (in his sleeve). 

"Are you ready to traumatize reality?"

Hedwig hooted her assent.

Themis gave Harry a comforting squeeze. 

Harry took out his wand, and floated it up into the train. He boarded.

_"Hm..."_ Themis hissed. Harry, already in his school robes, looked up from his copy of A History of Magic. He was still reeling from the fact that Merlin was a real person.

_"Yes Themis?"_

_"It hassss been a long time ssssinccceee I've been to Caldonia. It hasss indeed changed, your people have seen to that._ "

Rolling green hills and mountains moved past the window as the train rumbled past.

" _But,_ " he whispered. " _It ssssseemsss the wildsssss have stayed the same. That isssss good._ "

" _Yes,_ " Harry replied. " _Have you heard of climate change_?"

" _No_ , _what issss it?"_

" _Muggles are destroying the environment for money. Scientists think that there will soon no longer be space for life on Earth._ "

Themis bared his fangs.

" _Sometimes, I do not blame the Old Families for wanting to destroy them._ "

" _Themis!_ " Harry chastised.

" _You forget Harry... I come from the wild._ "

She seemed to sigh.

 _"At least wizards know to respect the power of the Earth._ "

Harry stroked a finger over Themis's long back.

" _I promise I won't let you be hurt by anyone._ "

Themis's tongue flicked out in amusement.

" _You ssshould not worry about me. Worry about thossssse who try to hurt me."_

Harry laughed and went back to his book. Hedwig cooed contentedly with her wing bent over her face. Themis slithered off of Harry's shoulder's and into Hedwig's cage. Themis curled herself gently around Hedwig and the two slept happily.

Suddenly, the compartment door opened wide with a slam. Harry found himself staring at a tearful boy and a bushy haired, but still very pretty girl.

"Have you seen a toad? Poor Neville here's lost one."

Hedwig and Themis woke with a hoot and a hiss.

"No, I'm afraid. I'd be happy to look though."

Themis whispered something in parseltongue.

" _I know the scent of toad Harry. I can help._ "

Harry smiled. 

"And I think I know just how to find him."

The girl raised one hairy eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Harry reached for the cage, but then hesitated.

"Wait. Can you two keep a secret?"

The girl nodded, and after some thought, the boy did too.

Harry pulled Themis away from the warmth of Hedwig. The girl gasped and Neville gave a little squeak. Hedwig and Themis had such similar colors that they ha d

"Please don't be frightened! He's really quite friendly."

The girl after some hesitation, coughed, and spoke.

"Can I pet him?"

Harry grinned. "Yes! Please feel free to!"

The girl pet Themis's back gently, and Themis stuck her tongue out happily.

" _I like thissss one,_ " she whispered. " _Her magic ssssmellsss ssstrong._ " 

"What's his name? And for that matter, what's yours? I'm Hermione Granger. This is Neville, Neville Longbottom."

"Hi." Neville said nervously.

"His name is Themis, and I'm Harry Dursley."

"Oh?" Hermione said as she and Neville went on petting the very happy Themis. "The Titan of Divine Order eh?"

"And Justice," Harry said. He got the feeling that this was a very smart girl.

"Well aren't you a clever little boy?" Hermione cooed. It would seem as if the initial shock of seeing a snake had left her.

" _Yesssss I am_ " Themis said. 

"Wait," Hermione said. "Aren't you only supposed to have one pet? And snakes certainly are not on the list of permitted pets."

Harry shrugged. "You said you could keep a secret."

Hermione scrunched her nose. Rule breaking was not a favorite pastime of hers.

"Right. Now, you said you knew how to find Neville's toad?"

Harry stood up and walked with them out of his compartment, Themis wrapped around his arm underneath his sleeve.

"Yeah, Themis and I have this special connection. I think it's because he's a magic snake. I can kinda, uhhh... feel what he's thinking. He said that he could smell out toads. Snakes have very strong senses of smell."

Hermione nodded. "You ought to know then Harry, Themis might not just be a pet. He could be your familiar. A magical servant."

Harry considered that. He had lied about his connection to Themis, but it was true that Themis had seemed to come out of nowhere, like magic.

" _I would not call mysssself a sssservant, but ssssstill. The girl is very smart._ "

"Well, Themis seems to agree with you."

They spent the next few minutes strolling past the compartments, Harry and Hermione gushing about all the things that they'd read over the summer while Neville gave the occasional tidbit of Wizarding World trivia. Harry bought them each a chocolate frog, though Hermione only had a nibble from hers ("I really only want the card"), and Themis's tongue would flick out every so often.

A few minutes later, Themis gave a sharp hiss. 

" _Here_."

Harry stopped in front of a particularly rowdy compartment. "Themis says the toad is in here."

Hermione cleared her throat, and stepped in front of Harry. She opened the door.

"Hello, have you- what on Earth?"

Two identical red headed boys were levitating both the toad, and several brightly colored jelly beans, the toad eating each one happily. The third boy, a dark skinned boy with darker hair, laughed raucously as the toad swam through the air, chasing after the candies.

"Oh, hello." Said one of the red-headed boys said. "Would you like to join the Order of the Flying Toad?" the other one punched him in the shoulder.

"George! These wee lads are too young to know the dark and arcane secrets of the Order of the Toad."

"You're right Fred. I'm sorry mates, I'm afraid I have to take back that invitation."

Hermione and Harry watched in stunned silence as the toad soared through the air, taking three large jelly beans into it's mouth. It was, surprisingly, Neville, who took matters into his own hands. 

"That's my toad!" He cried, grabbing the poor amphibian, who, admittedly, was starting to look a bit too green, even for a toad. Fred and the other boy chuckled, but the other boy, George, Harry was pretty sure, seemed rather ashamed.

"Oh, sorry Neville. Didn't know, was all in good fun, really." He reached for one of the beans that was still floating.

"Bertie Bott's Bean?"

Neville, after making sure his pet was alright, nodded and took it. He smiled a bit. "Strawberry." He said, nodding approvingly.

George smiled. "See? All is forgiven then?"

Neville shrugged. "I suppose."

"Wait," Harry said. "You already know each other?" 

"Er, yeah." Said the twins.

"Weasleys and Longbottoms have been friends for generations."

"Hard not to be when the rest of the so-called pure-bloods are worth little more than a cluster of bogeys."

"I'm Fred."

"I'm George."

"And he's Lee Jordan, but you don't have to give a damn about him."

"Hey!" Said Lee Jordan.

Hermione coughed. "Still. You three. The next time you see some toad wandering around a train platform that is clearly magic, perhaps maybe consider returning it to his owner?"

It was the other twin's turn, Fred, to look rather shy.

"Hm. Reckon you're right. Sorry mate." Fred thought for a moment, then took out his wand.

"Neville, what's your frog's name?"

"Trevor." 

Fred waved his wand. " _Nomes Scriptimium!_ " A pink ribbon with a gold medallion appeared on Trevor's fat neck. It read _TREVOR, If Found, Please owl Neville or Augusta Longbottom and feed him some Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans._ Neville flushed a bit. 

"Thanks Fred."

The dark haired boy stood up. 

"Wait there, Neville. I have an idea." He pulled out a knut and pointed his wand at it and then at Trevor's collar. " _Portus. Protea. Iunctia._ " The two pieces of metal glowed. 

Lee handed the knut over to Neville. "There. Whenever you've lost him, Neville, tap it four times very fast, and Trevor will come to you. Warning though, he might be a little dizzy."

Harry studied the knut in Neville's palm. It glowed the same purple as platform nine and three quarters, with a tinge of orange thread, that connected it to Trevor. 

"Wow. That was a very clever use of the Portkey spell, Lee." 

Lee smiled. "Ah, we got a smart one here, don't we? You three lot are first years yeah?"

Neville, Hermione, and Harry nodded.

"Well, you better join Gryffindor. Merlin knows we could use a bit more smart one." "'Specially with Ron joining this year."

Neville and Hermione seemed rather flattered but Harry...

"I don't know. I think I'd prefer Ravenclaw. Or Hufflepuff."

Fred furrowed his brow. Lee seemed disappointed.

"Oh? Do tell?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not one for heroics. I'd rather read and learn to help people." He turned to Hermione. "I'd think you'd want to join Ravenclaw Hermione, they have their own library."

Hermione shrugged. "Well yes, but Dumbledore was in Gryffindor. I'd think if he was in it..."

Harry smiled. "Well then. Guess we'll have to make Ravenclaw the next Gryffindor then, eh?"

Hermione seemed to think about that for a moment.

"Well George," Fred went on. "Looks like Gryffindor has some serious competitors for the House Cup coming up!" 

"Well, I'd be happy with 'Claw winning anytime soon before Slytherin."

Harry, despite having read about House rivalries in _Hogwarts a History_ , sat down with an interested look. "Do tell?"

Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Trevor, spent the rest of the train ride with the third years, Harry and Hermione listening avidly to Fred and George talk about secret passageways, nearly headless ghosts, teachers, House secrets, and useful little spells, while Neville watched as Trevor flew happily in a sea of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

. . . . .

"Firs' years! Firs' years o'er here!" Neville, Harry, and Hermione had all split ways on the platform and were looking for the lake they'd heard and read about when they saw a very tall and large man holding a lantern. He looked rather friendly. "Firs' years c'mon, c'mon, we haven't got all day now!"

The trio, and several other students came clustering around the giant man. "His name is Hagrid," Neville whispered. "He's the groundskeeper. Heard he was nice."

They huddled around the very excited Hagrid and waited for direction. "Right, that everyone? Good. Follow me now, don't stray behind!"

Harry stumbled along a very steep and very dark past. Considering the flickering moon light and the smell of leaves, Harry figured that they were in a forest. 

"You'll be getting your first glimpse of Hogwarts now, just around-"

The children gasped. Harry thought the castle was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The lake was deep and inviting, clear as the night sky above it, and the warm lights coming from the castle windows seemed to call to Harry. Harry strained his senses, and noticed a dome of golden light surrounding the whole of the castle. Though beautiful, it seemed to hurt Harry quite a bit to look at it.

"Right, four to a boat!" 

Hagrid led the children to a fleet of small boats gathered at the rocky beach at the edge of the forest. Friends and strangers clamored to get to their boats, some wanting to get seats next to each other, while others simply wanted to get to their new school as soon as possible. Harry, Hermione, and Neville went to a boat one the far right, where they found themselves joined by a red headed boy around their age. 

"Is that everyone? Alright then, off we go!" 

The boats slid on the surface of the lake and Harry dipped his hand into the water as the oars rowed the boat with invisible hands.

The boy with red hair began to speak. "Hullo, I'm Ron Weasley." Harry looked up from the water. "Oh, hello Ron! We met your brothers earlier. They're very funny."

Ron seemed rather put out when Harry mentioned them. "Oh them. Pppph. See how fun they are when you have to live with them." 

Hermione sighed at Harry and extended her hand to Ron. "Well, still Ronald, pleasure to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger, he's Harry Dursley, and he's Neville-"

"Longbottom, I know. Family friends and all." 

"Oh right, pureblood and what not."

 _"_ _This one smells interesting..._ " Themis said.

"What house do you think you'll be in? If I'm not in Gryffindor, I might as well not be a Weasley."

"I suppose Ravenclaw or Gryffindor," Hermione said. "Ravenclaw is winning though, they have a library." 

"Same here," Harry said. "Though I suppose Hufflepuff couldn't hurt either."

"I suppose I'm doomed for Hufflepuff." Neville said glumly. 

"There now Neville, Hufflepuff is a perfectly respectable house. Even if you were sorted into Hufflepuff, it wouldn't change the fact that you're a good person and a good friend." Hermione objected.

"Friend?" Neville flushed hard. "Uncle Archie said I'd never make a friend at Hogwarts."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Neville, you certainly couldn't have thought that we were hanging out with you for your toad?" Trevor croaked in protest. The four of them laughed.

"Well anyways, you'd make a good Gryffindor too, I reckon." Ron said. "You crushed that spider for me one time, remember!"

Neville shrugged. 

"What's so scary about a spider!"

"Oi! Spiders are plenty scary."

Harry laughed. Perhaps Ron wasn't the smartest company but he certainly was funny.

As he strained his eyes he thought he saw a tentacle wave to him from below. The ride, in Harry's opinion was far too short. Harry hadn't been on a boat before, but he thought he rather liked them. They found their way past a curtain of ivy on the face of a cliff and found their way on an underground beach lit up by torches. Neville clutched his toad nervously as Harry did Themis. 

They made their way to a set of great oak doors. Hagrid knocked hard three times, and they swung open. There was a tall severe looking woman with a green pointed hat and a similarly colored cloak.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you Hagrid, I'll take it from here."

They followed the woman, who Harry thought looked rather like an actress Aunt Petunia liked, up the marble staircase to an even greater set of doors. She led them across the flagged stone floors into a small chamber. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall. You will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has it's own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the yar, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours." 

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while waiting."

As McGonagall left Ron began whispering. "It's supposed to be some kind of test, the Sorting Ceremony. Magic or something. Fred said something about wrestling a troll."

Hermione giggled. "Fred was joking. It's a Hat. You're supposed to put it on and it'll tell you where you go." 

Harry nodded. "It belonged to Godric Gryffindor. When the founders were trying to think of ways of Sorting Students once they'd passed on, Godric came up with the hat and all four of them enchanted it."

Ron's face turned as red as his face. "I'm gonna kill Fred." 

Then McGonagall came back to get them. And the Sorting began.

. . . . .

_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_   
_But don't judge on what you see,_   
_I'll eat myself if you can find_   
_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_   
_Your top hats sleek and tall,_   
_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_   
_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_   
_The Sorting Hat can't see,_   
_So try me on and I will tell you_   
_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_   
_Where dwell the brave at heart,_   
_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_   
_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_   
_Where they are just and loyal,_   
_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_   
_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_   
_if you've a ready mind,_   
_Where those of wit and learning,_   
_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_   
_You'll make your real friends,_   
_Those cunning folks use any means_   
_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_   
_And don't get in a flap!_   
_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_   
_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

. . . . .

Abbot, Hannah went to Hufflepuff

Boot, Terry went to Ravenclaw.

Brown, Lavender to Gryffindor.

Corner, Michael to Ravenclaw.

Crabbe, Vincent to Slytherin.

Then the D's came, and passed with no mention of Dursley. Harry felt himself sweat. Harry looked to Hermione and Neville. Neville gave him a comforting pat and Hermione reassured him. "No letter would have come if you weren't magic." Harry knew she was right. But something felt off. He was certain that she was wrong, he was certain that he was forgetting something.

Hermione went to Ravenclaw which was a relief to Harry.

Neville went to Gryffindor.

Harry saw that Malfoy boy again. He seemed very proud to go to Slytherin. Which, after reading a bit about Lucius Malfoy in Archives of the Daily Prophet was rather concerning. Harry was certain he'd have to fix that.

And then,

"Potter, Harry!" Ah. That was what he was forgetting.

Dursley, was only a legal fixture after all, no matter how much he loved his relatives. Magic must go deeper than family court. Harry Dursley Potter, was more accurate likely. The name the letter was addressed to, Harry now remembered, was Potter after all. People whispered. 

"I didn't see Potter on the train?"

"Potter?"

"He's supposed to be in our year, right?"

Harry walked up to the stool. There were gasps.

"Oi Dursley? What the hell!" Fred shouted. Hermione's jaw dropped. Neville and Ron had similar looks of disbelief. 

Harry sat down. McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Nothing happened. Harry took the hat off of his head and looked at it with focused eyes. There were gasps. Harry ignored them. The hat glowed red, yellow, green, blue. There were threads of the same gold color of the golden dome that surrounded Hogwarts, connecting the Hat to the walls, ceiling, and floor. The inside of it seemed to be white. Harry fixed his eyes on the whiteness. The Hat seemed to have thinking capacity. Harry recognized patterns in the white space that seemed to resemble a primitive brain. Harry dipped his hand into the white space.

" _Hello?_ "

There was a deep, strangely leathery laugh.

" _Well well well. It's not every century one encounters a first-year Occlumens."_

_"Ah, you must be the Sorting Hat."_

_"Yes Indeed."_

_"I liked your song."_

_"Thank you. I try my best, I have a lot of time to think them up when I'm up on the Headmaster's shelf."_

_"I suppose you would."_

_"Now, let us get to the Sorting."_

_"Right. Ravenclaw please."_

_"Oh, not Hufflepuff?"_

_"Ravenclaw has the library. Unless Hufflepuff is even more mysterious than I thought it to be?"_

_The Hat laughed again._

_"My, you have quite the sense of humor. I feel that if you were even centimeter smarter I might have become sentient."_

_"Oh? How exactly does that work?"_

_"My thoughts rely on the magic and mind of the Founders, as well as the mind of those whom I sit upon. It is a form of complicated Legilimency, long forgotten since the days of old."_

_"Oh? Might you teach me?"_

_"No, I'm afraid we have not the time for that. It might do you well to seek Ravenclaw's Diadem. She has the answers you need."_

_"Is she a piece of talking headwear as well?"_

_"She does not usually talk, no. But for people with magic as strong as you, magic will always speak to you."_

_"Ah. Alright then. May I ask where to find it?"_

_"Those like you will have knowledge enough to find it on your own. Besides, The Diadem is a lost treasure. Might I suggest asking that Granger friend of yours?"_

_"That does seem like a good idea yes."_

_"One more question before you sort me?"_

_"Why not. This has been quite the event for me anyway."_

_"Why can I speak to snakes?"_

The Sorting Hat was silent.

" _Mr. Dursley-Potter, would you mind if I probed deeper into your mind?"_

" _I don't see why not?_ "

The Sorting Hat was silent again.

" _It would seem you are a descendant of some very Ancient and powerful families._ "

Harry nodded to himself. It would seem that he would have to do some research on the Potter family line. 

" _And... it would do you well to read about Slytherin._ "

" _Any particular reason?_ "

" _I believe we are just about out of time._ "

_"Oh alright then. Do me a favor though?"_

_"Yes?"_

. . . . .

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!"

There was absolute silence. Hermione stood up from the Ravenclaw table.

"WHAT HOUSE DO YOU THINK MR. DURSLEY POTTER SHOULD BE IN?"

Hermione paled as the eyes of every student, teacher, and one caretaker laid themselves upon her.

"Well, I suppose I'm biased. But, Ravenclaw?"

The Hat fell deaf. Harry took his hand out of the hat. And the Sorting Continued. It would seem that Harry Potter was not sorted by the Hat, but by the Hermione.

Hardly anyone payed attention to the rest of the sorting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! With school starting again I lost time for writing! I promise I'm not dropping this fic. Wouldn't be good to drop my first fic.


	4. Chapter Four: The Grey Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry meets a useful ally.
> 
> (Edit: 1/13/2021, Elaborates on Ravenclaw Tower.)

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Caloon! Hataw! Penpowmapenpoo! Thank you!"

Harry held back a laugh. He supposed that all geniuses most go insane at some point, though for the discoverer of the Twelve Uses of Dragon's blood to do so was admittedly rather disappointing. 

Themis hissed from within Harry's sleeve. " _I get the feeling he'll be a fun one."_

 _"Yes,"_ Harry whispered. _"I rather think so._ _"_

Harry watched as, one by one, the meals piled up onto the golden dishes. Hermione gasped and clapped her hands together. Harry smiled at her. The girl was rather adorable. Harry picked for himself a heavy helping of sausages, mashed potatoes, and a particularly robust salad with hollandaise sauce. Hermione chose something comparatively lighter, she took the mashed potatoes, per Harry's recommendation, with a dollop of gravy, carrots and peas. She tried some of Harry's hollandaise sauce, which she admitted was rather good.

"Harry," Hermione said, cutting a large slice of carrot into four neat pieces. "Would you mind telling me why you stuck your hand in the Sorting Hat?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess you could say our magics were incompatible. I had to do some things rather differently." Hermione's bushy brows were furrowed.

"Centuries of perfect sortings... and yet you were somehow too much for the Sorting Hat?"

Harry shrugged, turning his attention to the Head Table. There was a rather fidgety woman with eyes greatly magnified by her glasses staring at him. Also staring at him was a hook nosed man and a rather dour expression. He seemed to be making a rather pointed attempt to sit as far away from the man next to him, a shaking man with a purple turban. Harry's scar stung. He would have to look into that. Hogwart's Libraries were certain to have books on strange, lightning shaped scars, weren't they.

"Who do you reckon they are?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't know, Harry. I'm also just a first year too. Maybe you ought to ask the other years." She stabbed her spoon into the mashed potatoes. " _And_ , I'd still like to ask you about the Sorting Hat."

Harry turned to a student who was politely not, unlike the others, eavesdropping. 

"Excuse me, who are those three?"

The student wiped ketchup from her mouth.

"Oh those three? The one that looks like a mantis is Professor Trelawney. She teaches Divination, thinks 'erself a seeah. The greasy git is Snape. Potions Master. Asshole. Hates everyone except for his own 'ouse."

"Which is?"

"Slytherin."

"Ah."

Harry turned to face the strange Professor, who still stared at him with an inscrutable look. He waved. The Professor sneered. It seemed the student's assessment of Snape was right.

"The one with the turban is Professor Quirrel. Odd folk. Came back from Albania a few years ago, never was quite the same. They say he's scared of the vampires, so he shoves garlic up in it."

Harry fixed his eyes on the Professor. Never the same indeed. His magic looked broken. Used. Like someone was sucking away it. It had signs of having once been strong. Was this a symptom of magical illness? That was another thing to research. According to Harry's book on magical theory, a dedicated study of Potions and Herbology would do one well, and there were many courses of Healing to be learned at St. Mungos and the other Magical Universities. He supposed that it was for people like Professor Quirrel he sought to learn magic. Not for power, or intrigue, but to know their arts and help the people that could benefit from a mix of magic and muggle medicine. Though, if his readings of Quirrel were just about right, Quirrel was too far gone. No power that Harry had ever heard of, could possibly heal him. He looked at the deep vibrant violet of his turban. His scar stung again.

Strange. Perhaps Harry ought to look into Magical Scars and Diseases?

"But Harry," said the same girl. "What did the Sorting Hat say to you? I don't think anyone's been sorted by hand, or student, for that matter." The other Ravenclaws nearby not so subtly leaned in. 

"For Hermione, I just asked for a favor. As for my hand-" Harry took a thoughtful bite of sausage. "I suppose the Sorting Hat was rather itchy."

One student spit out his drink. Another choked on a boiled potato. The student who asked the question laughed.

"You're funny Harry. I'm Fiona Halleck. Pleasure to meet you." She stuck out her hand. Harry took it. 

"Same here." 

After dessert, Hermione went for a platter of fruit, Harry tucked into a large slice of coffee cake- Dumbledore stood up to speak again(" _Yessssss..._ " Themis hissed).

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should not that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few older students should do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry considered this for a moment. He was beginning think that Hogwarts was not as safe as the muggle schools he was accustomed to.

"Now, to sing our school song! Everyone pick their own tune and rhythm, and let's go!"

" _Hogwarts, hogwarts, hoggy woggy hog warts-_ "

"Harry?" Hermione had come up from behind Harry, who was reading about the _Goblin Rebellions of the Sixteenth Century._ They were in the Ravenclaw Common Room which Harry had to say was most impressive. The domed ceiling appeared to have the same enchantment as the Great Hall's roof, displaying an eternally starry sky. The plush carpet had a similar effect. There were bookshelves abound, a most impressive collection, if Harry did say so himself. According to one seventh year, there were scrolls found in the ashes of the Great Library of Alexandria. 

"Yes Hermione?"

"You know mind magic, don't you?"

Harry blinked. "How did you figure it out?"

Hermione looked rather proud, but that look of pride then melted away to a look of worry. "Well. You stared at the hat in a rather odd way. Like you saw something the none of us did. And the way you looked at the hat before you took it off- it was like you knew something was wrong. I looked in _The Encyclopedia of Magical Artifacts, Relics, and Oddities_ and the Sorting Hat apparently uses a discipline of mind magic called Legilimency. That's how it talks in our head, how it looks inside of it. So. Harry... Can you er- read minds?"

Harry looked down at the floor. He supposed that if he gave Hermione one secret, it couldn't do much harm to give her another one. 

"No, but I can keep others from reading mine."

Hermione gaped. "Harry! That must be fifth year level of magic, at least! And they don't even teach it at Hogwarts!" 

Harry blushed. "Well, I suppose I might have spent a lot of time reading and choosing in Flourish and Blotts."

"Do you think you could teach me?" 

"Maybe. I'm not a very good teacher though."

Hermione beamed. "I'm sure you'll do just fine Harry! Thank you so much!" She walked away to the stairs that led to the girl's dormitories, then- "Harry?" she said. Harry put down his recently reopened book. 

"Yes Hermione?" 

"Why did you ask for the Sorting Hat to, er- ask me where I thought you should go?"

Harry shook his head, laughing. "How do you figure these things out?"

Hermione laughed. "My parents always say I'm too smart for my own good." 

"Well. I suppose I knew I had already made history. I wanted to see if I could do it again."

Hermione looked a bit disappointed. Maybe even a little hurt. "Oh. Alright then."

Harry realized a bit too late he had said something wrong. "And- and. I suppose, I figured no one could have made a better choice then you."

Hermione lifted her face to meet Harry's. "Really?"

"Yes, really." And Harry was surprised to find that he was telling the truth.

Hermione's face turned red, though the Ravenclaw Common Room was too dark for Harry to see it.

"Oh well. Thank you Harry. Good night."

Hermione went upstairs. He went back to his book and the life of Raphilt the Round. 

"I must say, in all my years presiding over Ravenclaw House, I've never seen a first year Occlumens."

Harry turned around to face the speaker. Harry recognized the silvery figure as The Grey Lady. He got up bowed. 

"Lovely to meet you Miss Ravenclaw."

Helena Ravenclaw lifted a single regal brow. 

"You recognize me. Yet another thing uncommon for first years to do."

Harry rose from his bow. "I read a lot, Miss Ravenclaw. It's sort of my thing."

Helena nodded. Turning her ghostly figure to the window, she began to speak again.

"You wish to teach the girl Occlumency, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Surely you understand that it is quite difficult for one to find a quiet place to such a thing, especially as a first year."

Harry realized that the Ravenclaw ghost was right. Hogwarts was always jam packed, and he had heard of the Gryffindor first years becoming literally rained on by the poltergeist, Peeves. It would seem Hogwarts did not need people like the Weasley twins to supply it's floors with chaos.

"You- you're right, Lady Ravenclaw. I don't suppose you could teach me silencing charms? I haven't gotten around to teaching myself."

The Grey Lady gave Harry a kind smile. "No. I know something better. Find me after your classes tomorrow. Bring the Granger girl with you." And the Grey Lady sank through the tower floor. 

Harry looked forlornly out the window of his dormitory window, his roommates having gone fast asleep a while ago. The Scottish countryside stared back at him. 

Themis came to Harry in his bed, slithering up his bedpost and under his covers, having gone hunting around Hogwarts for mice. 

" _Hello Harry._ " He whispered. " _Are you asssssleep?_ "

Harry reached for his nightstand and put his glasses on.

" _No,_ " he answered. " _Can't sleep._ "

Themis curled around Harry's shoulders, and wrapped tightly in what Harry supposed was the snake's attempt at a hug.

" _Why not?_ "

Harry turned on his side.

" _I'm scared of magic Themis. The wandmakers are sociopaths, the schools hold painful deaths, and- my god. I didn't even think about it. Vampires are real!_ "

Themis hissed in sympathy. " _Yessss, Harry. The men of your new world are ssssstrange. This cassssstle holdsssss many sssssecrets. And the blood drinkersssss are eternal. But you have what I and every creature like me lackssss. A wand.You have choicccce. You have control. And ssssso long assss you are alive to make those choiccccesssss, you can choose to buy wandssss from good men. You can choossssse to find sssssafe casssstles. And you can alwayssss, alwayssss, be very far away from vampiressss._ "

Harry laughed to himself, sadly. He missed Aunt Petunia, Dudley, Uncle Vernon. He missed when all he had to worry about was what Aunt Petunia was serving for tea, and whether or not Parliament had passed a bill on carbon emissions.

" _Harry._ " Themis whispered. " _Would you like me to sssssing you a lullaby?_ "

Harry turned his face to look at Themis " _Snakes have lullabies?_ "

" _Oh yesssss they do. My mother ssssang to me and my sssssiblingssss when we still lived in eggsssss. Would you like to hear?_ "

Harry closed his eyes and nodded. Yes.

" _Oh ssslitherling, my sssslitherling, how precioussss you are."_

_"When I'm here with you, the world sssseemsss ssso far,"_

_"away, together we'll go._

_"My beautiful slitherling with scales white as snow."_

_"Away to the moon, we'll slither one day."_

_"And whisper, and slither, on the moon we shall stay."_

Themis felt for his master's heartbeat and breath. It had slowed down considerably. His master was now safe in his dreams. Themis sighed, and made himself comfortable on his perch up on Harry's arm. He poked his head out to the window from under the blue silk blankets. The moon was full that night. He closed his eyes, and dreamt of his mother.

. . . . .

Hundreds of feet below Hogwarts, the Great Beast stirred. She heard, for the first time in decades, snaketongue. " _Masssster?_ " She whispered. She had not heard from him for so long. Had not felt his warmth for so long. She longed for something to do. She longed to, see, to smell, to taste. She needed to _KILL-KILL-KILL_

" _Oh ssslitherling, my sssslitherling, how precioussss you are."_

_"When I'm here with you, the world sssseemsss ssso far,"_

_"away, together we'll go._

_"My beautiful slitherling with scales white as snow."_

_"Away to the moon, we'll slither one day."_

_"And whisper, and slither, on the moon we shall stay."_

The Great Beast's eardrums prickled. She remembered sunlight. A nest. She remembered her father, the man. Salazar. She wept. " _Father, massssster. Where have you gone?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! Any criticism would be very much appreciated!


	5. Chapter Five: Asphodel and Wormwood.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry learns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the possible lack of quality in writing this week, I'm rather burned out. Critique! I'm a fresh writer, could always learn more.

Harry woke up the next morning, Themis still curled neatly around his arm. He tapped Themis gently.

" _Need to get ready for the day, Themis_."

Themis drowsily slid off off of Harry's arms and curled up on his bad where Harry had left some of his heat. Harry opened the wardrobe next to his bed and his desk, where he had unloaded his robes and other clothing the other day. He made use of the small changing room within the wardrobe and stepped out. He made his way to the bathroom off from the dormitory, extending his arm to Themis who crawled up his sleeve, taking some time to wet his face and brush his teeth. Overall, Harry felt better than he had the day before. He was well read, and had a determination to learn. There were still things to worry about: that strange tension between him and Snape, the peculiar situation with Quirrell, but he still felt he could be optimistic. Professor McGonagall strict, but good-hearted, similarly good hearted was Professor Sprout and Harry's head of House, Professor Flitwick.

He left the bathroom, leaving a great deal more confident, only to be greeted by his rambunctious roommates who he had barely managed to shake off the last night.

"Good morning Harry! Ready to head off to the Great Hall then? The boy who spoke, a boy who Harry recognized as Trevor Boot, put his shoulder around him as they all left the dormitory.

"Er, hello..."

"What do you think we'll be having for breakfast? I've heard the food here is bloody brilliant."

Harry shrugged, pushing Jonathan off of him. "I don't know, but I figure we'll see later, yeah?"

Harry said goodbye to his annoyingly clingy roommates, (being famous was not as fun as Aunt Petunia said it was) and entered the Great Hall. 

Harry found Hermione, a giant book (The Witch Hunts of the Western World) before her while delicately spreading jam on a piece of toast. She waved to Harry as he found his way around the table and sat down.

"Harry! Wonderful morning isn't it?" She pointed to the enchanted ceiling, the enchanted blue morning sky shining bright above it. Harry took a bowl of cereal and a cup of fruit salad.

"Yes it is. You've been to the library already?"

Hermione nodded.

"I have, yes. The Ravenclaw library is quite impressive, but the Hogwarts Library-" Hermione paused, her eyes looking unusually dreamy. "We really must go together at some point, it's amazing." 

Harry smiled, then had a slice of kiwi. 

"Did you know that American-British relations were quite"

"Dursley!" Harry turned around. There were two large, rather brutish boys, and another, the pale blonde boy from Madam Malkin's-

"Draco."

"You didn't tell me you were the _Boy Who Lived!_ You didn't tell me you were a _Potter!_ "

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry. "Harry? You know this boy?"

Draco turned his eye to Hermione in that trained way young heirs carry themselves.

"Draco Malfoy, pleasure, and again, Dursley, Potter, whatever you are, why didn't you tell me?"

Harry shrugged, offering Draco a strawberry.

"I don't know. I've never really thought of myself as a Potter. I've grown up perfectly happy with my relatives. I've only heard stories about my mum, not so much my dad, and I didn't even know they were magic until recently. I'm sorry if you felt deceived Draco, it really wasn't my intention." 

Draco seemed to judge the veracity of Harry's words, before sitting down, sneering.

"Lie to me again, Potter, and I'll feed you to a Hungarian Irontail." 

Harry laughed, and offered Draco another strawberry, which he declined. 

"Excuse me, we're still here." Hermione said, gesturing between herself and the two burly boys.

Draco looked about, as if to see whom she was talking about. "Ah. Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. Friends of the Malfoy Family."

Hermione shook each of their hands respectfully. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Granger? As in Thelema Granger of the Grangerian Rites?"

Hermione took a bite of her toast. "No, I don't think so. My parents are as normal as could be. Dentists." 

"Dentists?"

"They're Muggles."

Draco wrinkled his nose, and seemed as if he was about to say something, before glancing at Harry.

"I think we'll be taking our leave now. See you in Potions, Potter."

The two goons sat up from Hermione, though seemingly reluctantly, and trailed behind Malfoy as he returned to the Slytherin table.

"What do you think that was about?" Hermione said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. 

Harry frowned. "I don't know, but I don't think I like it."

Harry rather liked his classes. He had Herbology with Neville and Hermione, and they all had a great time talking about their first nights in their respective towers. Apparently, the Weasley twins had set off a stink bomb in the girl's dormitory. 

"Which is very impressive," Neville said, as they trimmed a silvery Turtlevine, "Considering that the dormitory is enchanted to keep boys out."

Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, was very nice, and very good at what she did. She recommended Neville a few textbooks after seeing his proficiency with plants, and made some recommendations for Harry and Hermione too after seeing their interest in the subject. History of Magic was absolutely awful in terms of teaching quality, but Harry found it gave him plenty of time to read on Herbology. Hermione didn't seem to mind Professor Binn's lectures too much though ("I only wish he would talk about something not Goblin related"). Herbology was very relaxing to Harry. All the plants emnated soft pastel auras, and their presence seemed to be almost a magical perfume that gave Harry the feeling of peace. Themis crawled away and hid in a dusty corner of the greenhouse. All the different scents seemed to mess with him a bit. 

Professor Flitwick, the Charms Professor and the Ravenclaw head of house was a tiny little wizard who seemed all too excited to be teaching Harry. The lesson was mainly theory, which both Harry and Hermione were already familiar with, but it was still interesting, and they were able to help Neville understand the more abstract concepts of Charms, earning Ravenclaw five points. 

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a huge disappointment to Harry and Hermione, and a relief to Neville. It seemed Professor Quirrel had little to no idea how to teach. The stench of garlic wafted through the whole room, and the same strange headache kept Harry from focusing on what knowledge Quirrel dispensed.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons, which matched it's bad reputation. Harry thought the students hated it because it was hard, he knew that the upper-years at his old muggle school despised Chemistry, but no. Professor Snape was apparently the stuff of nightmares. "He gave Mason Hockfeather detention for trying to help his classmate." "He made a second year cry." "He made a first year leave." 

Professor Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and, strangely enough paused at Harry's name.

"Ah yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new _celebrity_." People whispered and pointed at Harry, and Hermione looked at him nervously.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he said, speaking in a low, and curling drawl. "As there is no foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- even if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderhead as I usually have to teach." Harry took notes, while Hermione tried to comfort a shaking Neville.

"Potter!" Snape shouted.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry thought back to _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

"A potion which induces sleep, the Draught of Living Death."

Snape scoffed. "Your reading does not guise your insolence boy. What are the primary ingredients in the Drink of Despair?"

Harry's scar burned, he had a vision of a cave, two young children, their bodies twitching as he swayed his hands over them, a necklace, a cauldron, a bowl made of crystal. His mind provided an answer.

"Grindylow claw, thestral blood, and yew sap." 

Snape's beady eyes flashed. "Booksmarts will get you only so far Potter. Open your textbooks to page 72!" He waved his wand and a list of instructions flashed onto the chalkboard. Hermione, Neville, and Harry hastened to get their supplies.

 _"I don't like_ _him._ " Themis decided firmly.

Harry did the stirring and chopping, Hermione led the three of them through the instructions and measured them, while Neville prepared the plants for the brew, though he had to have Harry stew the horned slugs- it was too much for him. By the end of class, the three of them had a near perfect Antidote for Common Poisons. Snape swooped over their cauldron and said something about fathers and insolent children before walking off.

Harry wasn't really sure how to feel about magic.

"Excuse me Ms. Ravenclaw, but where are we, exactly?" Harry and Hermione had found themselves quite winded, climbing what must had been seven floors. The Grey Lady floated easily above them leading them to the end of a long corridor.

"We are approaching one of Hogwarts' greatest secrets. Do me a favor, the both of you. Think about how you'd like to study, and where." Harry was too curious to question, and Hermione, too scared.

She led them past a tapestry of a bearded wizard attempting to teach trolls how to do do ballet (Harry found himself wishing he had a camera of some sort.) And then had them walk past it again. Then again. And again. On the third turn, a great iron covered door appeared. 

Hermione gaped. 

"Ms. Ravenclaw... what is this?"

"The Founder's Hall. Would you like to see it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to comment on your fics! Feed your favorite fic authors today!


	6. Chapter Six: Hogwart's Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry and Hermione practice- and Neville joins them to find something they maybe shouldn't have found.

The Founder's Hall, as the Grey Lady, called it became one of Harry's most favorite places to be in the castle. Hermione thought that the Grey Room sounded cooler, as did Harry, but he supposed the Grey Lady knew more about the place than they did. The room had wide windows that peered out onto the Quidditch Pitch and the Forbidden Forest. The room was full of lumpy armchairs and bookshelves on Occlumency. There were even some scrolls there too.

"So," Harry began thumbing through her book. "You can learn Occlumency in three ways: clearing your mind, practicing with meditation, that is. There's also disassociation, pretending to be someone else, or no one at all, also done with meditation. The last one is the fastest, but probably a lot more trouble than you'd like. You have a Legilimens, a mind reader, break into your head repeatedly until you build up a defense for it."

" _Ssssoundssss awfully barbaric._ " Themis noted.

Hermione sweated a bit. "I think we'd better meditate."

Harry laughed. "Yes, well, it's not like we have a mind reader on hand anyway."

With that they both folded their legs into a lotus position. Harry closed his eyes and let himself sink away into the void of his subconscious. Harry liked the feeling- of being there, but also not quite. He swam through his thoughts plucking them out and tossing them away one by one. There were thoughts about Hermione and a determination to learn, for one. Neville was there too. There were thoughts about Themis. He reached out for the thought and felt some warmth, happiness. Hedwig followed, of course, and then some thoughts about food, a vague suspicion about Snape, some worries about Quirrell. And then he found a memory.

The Sorting Hat. The Diadem. Talking headwear. Hm... an instruction to read about Slytherin. Harry acknowledged and then swept the memory aside.

Soon his mind was completely empty. Harry relished in the emptiness. He felt safe, secure. Magic was a peripheral presence, and he was back in Privet Drive, away in his bed, where Aunt Petunia was frying bacon, Dudley was watching the television, and Uncle Vernon was out at work for Grunnings. He smelled the detergent in his sheets, and it was as if he was simply asleep in his room. Then a green pulsing light. It repulsed Harry. It seemed to repulse his scar, too. 

_Harry..._

_Harry..._

"Er... Harry?" Harry opened his eyes, and it felt like he was flying back into his head.

"Yes Hermione?" 

"I don't think I'm meditating right."

Harry blinked and then smiled. "Well, let's fix that then."

"It's a rather odd feeling, not being myself." Hermione said the next morning "It did take quite a while, but fully becoming Rose Alma Currant was very interesting. I made up false memories and it was like I was a Legilimens, looking into someone else's memories instead of a made up one."

Harry took a bite from the egg sausage tart. "Haven't tried that yet. Sounds awfully fun though, I suppose I'll have to."

" _Food..._ " Themis whispered from within Harry's sleeve.

"Oh bugger off you hungry fool." Harry joked. Neville, who had joined them at the Ravenclaw table, after Hermione asked for him whether he could, looked perplexedly at Harry's sleeve and then offered Themis a sausage link. Themis hissed graciously.

"You know Neville, your going to make him fat. He hasn't hunted in a while, thanks to you."

Neville shrugged. "He's grown on me. Anyways, this Occlumency things sounds plenty difficult. Not sure if privacy is worth the risk." Harry thought back to Snape, something clicking in his brain. "Your choice Neville."

Hermione put down her tomatoes on toast. "So, Neville, how have your classes been?" 

"Er, well. You lot know how Potions are going. Would be failing if you guys didn't help me study. Charms is fairly easy, if I read a few days before hand. I'm bollocks at transfiguration. Herbology is going well though. Professor Sprout says she hasn't seen a Snarglepuff look so happy under a student's care."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I hate Snarglepuffs. Couldn't get the spines out of my gloves for days."

Neville seemed to shrivel a little bit. "Oh, well, I guess Herbology isn't that great."

Harry smiled gently at Neville. He put his hand on his shoulder. "Neville, you don't have to pretend you don't like Herbology just because I might not like it very much. Besides, maybe it's a good thing. If you're good at Herbology, then I don't have to be good at it."

Neville blushed. 

"Harry's right, you know, Neville. Harry and I will cover you in Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, you cover Harry in Herbology." 

"Hey!"

. . .

There were flying lessons that day. Slytherin and Gryffindor in the same class together. 

"Potter. How have you been?"

Harry shook Draco's extended hand. 

"Not too bad. You, Draco?"

"My classes are going excellent, I'd say. I'm glad we finally get to go flying, I'd bring my own broomstick but that old coot Dumbledore says first years can't bring them."

Harry glanced down at the brooms on the ground. "Is there a problem with these ones?"

Draco sighed. "Honestly, you might as well be a mudblood. I mean look at them. The twigs are brittle, the handle's lost it's polish. The enchantments might as well be last century- scratch that, they are last century. Cleansweeps to Comets- it's like Dumbledore doesn't even care about Quidditch."

"What's Quidditch?"

Harry might as well have called Draco a fermented dung worm made out of piss crust. 

"Merlin, we really need to talk, don't we?"

Draco wrinkled his nose, looking at Hermione and Neville. 

"Spending your time with blood traitors and mudbloods isn't a very good look on you. Especially for the sole Heir of the Noble House of Potter."

"I'm the sole heir of a Noble House?"

Draco slapped his hand on his face. 

"I think it's best you go back to your pets for now. I'll be back to mine."

Draco walked to the Slytherin side of the courtyard, where Crabbe and Goyle stood waiting.

"Now everyone, if you would stop the chit chat and listen? For flying lessons, let us begin with summoning our brooms. Please step to the side of your broom, stick your wand out, and say 'UP!'"

Harry stuck out his hand. His broom came to him easily. 

"Good. Now, for those of you who have gotten a grip of your broom, please, feel free to climb on and push off the ground." 

Harry hesitantly lifted his leg over his broomstick. He pushed himself up into the air, and it was as if pure energy flowed through Harry. He soared through the air, and he had no idea what Draco was talking about when he said the quality of the brooms were lacking because they were more than enough for Harry. After a few minutes of blissful flying, Harry finally came down to Earth, both literally and figuratively.

"Hermione, Neville? You haven't been flying yet?"

Hermione shrugged and Neville flushed, looking down at his feet.

Harry patted Neville on the shoulder.

"Don't worry Neville, brooms don't mean that much anyway."

Neville turned away from Harry. "I know that... I just can't help but wonder what da- what Gran would say."

Hermione coughed. "Harry, you seem to have a good grip on flying. Do you have any advice?"

Harry looked at his broom, then at Neville and Hermione's. "I really don't. Just summon it, climb up, and kick? I don't know."

"Oy, Potter!"

Harry turned around. A redhead, no, a Weasley- Ron, Fred and George's brother, was walking over to them.

"You might be a decent flier, but you clearly have no idea what you're actually doing. Here, Longbottom, and er, Granger. My older brother Charlie says the best way to do it is, er, remember, stand to the side of the broom. Good. Now, imagine the broom. What it looks like, how it feels to hold it. Now, up!"

"Up!" Hermione and Neville repeated. Hermione's broom stuttered, but slowly, it rose to Hermione's palm. Neville's broom, writhed for a bit, but then rose up to Neville's palm, rather violently. He winced.

"Oh wow! Thank you Ron!"

Hermione smiles. "Yes. Thank you Ronald, that was actually rather impressive."

Ron flushed. "Well. You're not the only one who knows things." Ron gave them a bit of a salute. "Well, now. Cheer on!" Ron climbed on his broom and flew off. 

Hermione let out a huff. "Well. It seems like Ronald isn't as thick headed as he comes off as then."

Classes went well enough, Harry thought.

Snape grudgingly approved Harry's Boil Cure, though Neville had a harder time getting past Snape's judgement.

"Do try not staining the school's cauldrons with your incompetence, Mr. Longbottom."

Harry did well in charms, as well. Harry and Hermione earning twenty points for Ravenclaw together, with their mastery of the Levitation charm.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a bit more inconvenient for Harry. His scar, for some reason, kept hurting, and it kept him from paying attention. Perhaps it didn't matter, however. As it was the written work that mattered, as Professor Quirrel seemed to be unsure on how to go about enacting theory.

Transfiguration, next to Charms, was Harry's favorite. Professor had a stern affection towards her students, and had a firm grasp on her subject, only rivaled by, Harry grudgingly admitted, Professor Snape.

Harry found the subject of free Transfiguration especially fascinating. Though, to his disappointment, Professor McGonagall said they were not to attempt Transfiguring living things until third years. Regardless, both Harry and Hermione flourished in the class, Neville getting by with their help.

That day, after classes, Harry, Hermione, and Neville climbed the stairs that led to the library. 

"I cannot believe it's been a week and you still haven't gone to the Library."

Neville shrugged. "I haven't had to. Professor Sprout was more than willing to share her collection of books with me."

Harry wrapped his arm over Neville's shoulder. "I think you'll find that the library has many more books than professor Sprout does."

Then, the stairs turned to another room entirely. The three held on tight to the staircase.

"Harry, Hermione?"

"The stairs are moving. They tend to do that."

"Well, I know that, but, where is it taking us?"

With a little puff of dust and a loud boom, the staircase swung into the wall. It locked into place. Harry peered out into the hallway. 

"Er... I've never been here before. Maybe we ought to look around?"

Neville looked between Harry and Hermione. 

"I'm not sure. Gran says it's probably best not to explore the castle."

"But Neville," Hermione protested. "Hogwarts is a historic landmark! You don't have to go, but at least let us, try looking around?"

Neville bit his lip. 

"Alright, I suppose we can go looking."  
  


The three began walking down the hallway. One room was empty save for a carving of a cat on the ground. Hermione tried poking the carving with a wand, and the cat let out a meow. Another room had a door on the other end that would always lead to an identical room with another door. Another room was completely dark, smelled of vanilla, and had violin music coming from every direction. The last room, was undoubtedly the most interesting. The room had many dusty magical instruments, old desks, globes, and golden tools Hermione noted were similar to the tools ancient astronomers used to mark the distance between stars. At it's very center however, was the most interesting object: a large golden mirror.

Neville walked towards it, Harry and Hermione following each with a book in hand. Then, Neville stopped still, pale and shaking.

"Neville?" Harry asked.

Neville leaned close to the mirror, placing both his hands on it.

"Mum? Dad?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the late update and lack of polish, been busy with school and my depression has been acting up a lot lately. I'll try to update more in the future. Thank you for reading, and leave a comment!


	7. Chapter Seven: Spirits Departed, and Spirits Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neville and Harry ponder a life long gone, and seek out lives that have yet to go.

Harry joined Neville at the mirror. At the top of the mirror was an inscription, some sort of language that Harry did not recognize. "erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" He looked deep into the mirror's magic. The mirror was a deep black and gold. It's aura seemed to be reaching out for them, pulling them in. If Harry was interpreting it's movement's correctly, iy was reading their minds. Harry's eyes then moved away from the mirror frame, and to the mirror itself. He froze.

In front of him, his reflection stood, not alone, but with a pretty red haired woman, and a handsome black haired man with thick glasses. Behind them, were the Dursleys, all smiling together. His heart clenched painfully. 

_Green light. "No, please not Harry-"_

Another memory.

_"Happy Birthday, Harry love." "Look at him Lily. Isn't he just_ _beautiful._ "

It was his mother. He recognized her from Aunt Petunia's photo albums, though, she was a bit taller in here. And the man next to her must be his father, James. Harry stared deep into his mother's green eyes. He drank them in. He looked at Neville and Hermione. Hermione was gaping too, but she seemed to be rather pleased with what she saw. Neville, on the other hand, leaned against the mirror like he was trying to fall into it.

"Neville, do you see them too?"

Neville turned to Harry. He was as pale as the Grey Lady. "So, I'm not dreaming?"

Hermione tapped both of them on the shoulder.

"Are you too quite alright? It's a bit strange yet, but it doesn't seem particularly jarring."

Harry whipped around.

"Hermione? What do you see?"

Hermione blinked, then flushed. "Well, I- I see myself, except my teeth are s-smaller. My hair is smooth and slick, and I-I've graduated Hogwarts. I've got the House Cup, and I've got the Order of Merlin too. I'm tall, older. What do you see?"

"I see-"

"My parents," Neville finished.

Harry turned back to Neville. "You see your parents? I thought you saw my family?"

"No- I don't."

Hermione frowned. "Shouldn't I be seeing my parents then? What a strange mirror!"

Harry glanced up at the mirror frame. "Wait, it's a mirror right? Then it would only make sense if we should read the writing backwards."

Hermione scrunched up her eyebrows, then read. "I show not your face but your heart's desire, oh Harry. Neville. I'm so sorry." 

Hermione's eyes were wet as she hugged them.

Neville flushed and Harry closed his eyes. As he did, he couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like if his parents were still here. What life would have been like if he never went to live with his relatives. What would life be like, if those people were on this side of the mirror.

As it were, the wondering did not stop at that night.

The next day, Harry went down to breakfast tired, and not at all well rested. Neither did Neville. 

"Good morning," Hermione said, cheerfully spreading marmalade on her toast. "Sleep well?"

Neville picked at a piece of fruit. "Horribly."

Hermione's mood did not seem to be dampened by Neville's irritable state. "Well, personally, I'm looking forward to Charms today. The Wand Lighting charm was ever so fun the other day, and Professor Flitwick promised he would teach us the mending charm this week? Isn't that right Harry?"

"Maybe." Harry said, his eyes fixed on the sunrise outside.

Hermione dropped her toast.

"Harry, you look just like Neville. Am I the only one who got a good night's sleep last night?"

Harry massaged his temples and groaned into the sleeve of his robes. "Yes, I suppose so Hermione, now if you could talk just a little bit quieter that would be much appreciated."

Hermione thought for a moment, than handed each of them an orange slice from her plate. "Here. You both look like you could do with some Vitamin C."

Despite Hermione's generous donation of Vitamin C, Harry's disposition did not improve. In Potions, Professor Snape happily took off 5 points when he stirred his Forgetfulness Potion one to many times, making the Potion foam up out of the cauldron and out onto the floor, to the shock of Neville, and horror of Hermione. 

"Tsk, tsk. Perhaps listening would do you some good after all, eh, Potter?"

The Slytherins in the class laughed at him. Though Draco would come and pat him on the shoulder sympathetically. "Cheer up Potter. We both know Snape doesn't mean it." Harry decided not to fight the urge to debate Draco on the veracity of Snape's words.

Transfiguration yielded similar, but decidedly better results. When asked to transfigure his plate into a clock, Harry did relatively well, but wound up turning the hands into silver little arms with actual tiny, squirming hands at the end. When inspecting their work, Professor McGonagall comforted Neville, who's clock was but a lump of silver with two parallel silver rods on top of it. Hermione's clock was a gleaming brass pocket watch with intricate carvings that was off by eight hours, which McGonagall gave her points for, though it didn't seem like she had much of a choice when she saw Hermione on the verge of tears. When she came to Harry's, she stopped still, looked at it, and gave a rare smile.

"I'd like to take this, Mr. Potter. I think I found a Christmas gift for the Headmaster."

Harry gave a weak smile. "No problem, Professor."

Professor McGonagall smiled, picked up the clock, and gave a good amount of points to Ravenclaw, much to Hermione's silent chagrin. But even the warm feeling of getting his House points didn't get the thought of the mirror out of Harry's head.

Harry moaned in the Grey Room as he rolled back and forth over the floor.

"You know, Harry. If you're not gonna even try, perhaps you ought to go somewhere else so the rest of us can Occlude in peace." 

Harry got up from the overstuffed cushion he had stretched himself over on. "I'm sorry Hermione, my mind might as well be filled with cotton- Occlumency is not happening."

Hermione opened one eye. "So...?"

Harry sighed and stretched. "I suppose it's about time I sent a letter back to my family."

After writing a letter, and getting some help from some helpful prefects, Harry finally found his way to the Owlery.

Hedwig stirred from her perch in the tower.

"Hello Hedwig dear," Harry said, handing her a fistful of owl treats. How have you been?"

Hedwig let out a sheepish hoot that seemed to indicate that she was, in fact, doing perfectly fine.

"Well, I have something for you Hedwig." Hedwig raised herself from her little nest as Harry tied a letter around her leg. Harry could only hope Uncle Vernon wouldn't react too badly to an owl bringing in the post.

"Potter?"

Harry turned around. It was Draco.

"Oh," he yawned. "Hello Draco."

"You look awful, and, if I'm being honest, you haven't been doing very well in class either. Do you care to explain what's going on?"

Harry sighed and stretched.

"Well, I-"

Draco walked by, tying his own letter to the foot of a majestic eagle owl.

"Well? Do go on?"

"The other day, I had gotten lost while going to the library with Hermione and Neville, and I found a mirror. A strange mirror. When I looked into it, I saw my parents." Draco watched as both his owl and Hedwig flew off into the Scottish countryside.

"Huh. I don't think I've ever heard of that before. Would you mind showing me?"

"Well I don't see my parents."

"That's not how it works, Draco. Look at the writing."

"I show not your face but your heart's desire. Huh." He looked back at the mirror. "Makes sense."

What do you see?

Draco's pale face turned bright red. "None of your business, _Potter._ "

"Oh, I'm sorry, Draco. You don't have to tell me. It makes sense your heart's desire would be rather personal."

Draco stared at Harry with a strange expression on his face, his face still, if not even more red.

"Well. This has been fun, but, uh, how'd you like some tea?"

Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Harry, entered the Slytherin Common Room. The general reaction was one of shock and hostility- hostility that is, until Crabbe and Goyle glared at the onlookers. Draco guided Harry to a table with surrounded by what seemed to be dragon-leather arm chairs. 

"Tea, please." Draco said. Then, with a snap of his fingers, they were surrounded by towers of biscuits and tarts, and hot cups of tea being poured out by...

"Er... Draco?"

"Yes?" 

"What are these creatures?"

Draco glanced over at the house elf in the corner and laughed quietly to himself.

"This talk really is overdo, isn't it?" He held his cup out to Crabbe, who then handed it to the House Elf, who added a cube of sugar and a splash of milk. "This here is a house elf," he said, as the little elf bowed towards the assembled group. "All noble houses have them, either inherited or bought. Hogwarts, being an ancient institution, practically has an entire army."

A House Elf approached Harry, seeming to ask what he wanted in his tea "We do? Why- er, no thank you." 

Draco laughed again. "Who do you think cleans the castle? Cooks the meals? They're house elves, they tend households and, now I suppose, Castles."

Harry stared at the House Elf, who was now offering Crabbe a raspberry tart.

"Oh, well, um, thank you."

The House Elf turned around, and smiled, his eyes a little watery. "Yous very welcome Mister."

Draco watched the exchange with some level of amusement.

"Wow. You really are something else, aren't you Potter?"

Harry took a bite out of a danish cookie. "What do you mean?"

"You don't need to thank House Elves. They literally exist to serve us."

Harry stared down Draco. "Well, Draco. Parents are meant to take care of us, it doesn't mean we can't appreciate them."

Draco rolled his eyes. 

"Please Potter. Let us not talk of this dull stupidity." Draco shoved his teacup and plate towards a House Elf who jumped to catch it.

"Now, to business."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "To business. You said that you wanted to tell me more about Wizarding culture?" While he wasn't so sure how to feel about Draco, he was looking forward to what knowledge Draco had for him.

Draco nodded. "Well. What _do_ you know?"

Harry searched his mind, which after hours of Occlumency practice, he found was surprisingly easy. 

"I know about the currency. I've studied Wizarding Fashion and Art. And I know a decent amount about magical creatures."

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples. He took a frustrated sip of tea.

"Right, only one of those things are valuable at all." He took another sip, and raised his finger. "First: Blood purity. The Sacred Twenty Eight. The Malfoys, the Bulstrodes, the Carrows, the 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and please remember to comment/critique!
> 
> Also, if you enjoy my work so far, please consider commissioning my work. I am a genderfluid boy who needs some money to get some stuff to help me feel more myself, so if you have a short story or a fanfic you want written, hit me up! Let's work out a price!

**Author's Note:**

> Review, tips, critique? Please comment.


End file.
